The Works of Aphra Behn
Chapter 324 : Sir _Cau_. What, set it against my Wife?_Gay_. Wife, Sir! ay, your Wife-- Sir _Cau_. H

Sir _Cau_. What, set it against my Wife?

_Gay_. Wife, Sir! ay, your Wife--

Sir _Cau_. Hum, my Wife against three hundred Pounds! What, all my Wife, Sir?

_Gay_. All your Wife! Why, Sir, some part of her wou'd serve my turn.

Sir _Cau_. Hum--my Wife--why, if I shou'd lose, he cou'd not have the Impudence to take her. [Aside.

_Gay_. Well, I find you are not for the Bargain, and so I put up--

Sir _Cau_. Hold, Sir--why so hasty--my Wife? no--put up your Money, Sir--what, lose my Wife for three hundred Pounds!--

_Gay_. Lose her, Sir!--why, she shall be never the worse for my wearing, Sir--the old covetous Rogue is considering on't, I think--What say you to a Night? I'll set it to a Night--there's none need know it, Sir.

Sir _Cau_. Hum--a Night!--three hundred Pounds for a Night! why, what a lavish Wh.o.r.e-master's this! We take Money to marry our Wives, but very seldom part with 'em, and by the Bargain get Money--For a Night, say you?--Gad, if I shou'd take the Rogue at his word, 'twou'd be a pure Jest. [Aside.

Sir _Feeb_. You are not mad, Brother.

Sir _Cau_. No, but I'm wise--and that's as good; let me consider.--

Sir _Feeb_. What, whether you shall be a Cuckold or not?

Sir _Cau_. Or lose three hundred Pounds--consider that. A Cuckold!--why, 'tis a word--an empty sound--'tis Breath--'tis Air--'tis nothing:--but three hundred Pounds--Lord, what will not three hundred Pounds do? You may chance to be a Cuckold for nothing, Sir--

Sir _Feeb_. It may be so--but she shall do't discretly then.

Sir _Cau_. Under favour, you're an a.s.s, Brother; this is the discreetest way of doing it, I take it.

Sir _Feeb_. But wou'd a wise man expose his Wife?

Sir _Cau_. Why, _Cato_ was a wiser Man than I, and he lent his Wife to a young Fellow they call'd _Hortensius_, as Story says; and can a wise Man have a better Precedent than _Cato_?

Sir _Feeb_. I say, _Cato_ was an a.s.s, Sir, for obliging any young Rogue of 'em all.

Sir _Cau_. But I am of _Cato's_ mind. Well, a single Night you say.

_Gay_. A single Night--to have--to hold--possess--and so forth, at discretion.

Sir _Cau_. A Night--I shall have her safe and sound i'th' Morning.

Sir _Feeb_. Safe, no doubt on't--but how sound.--

_Gay_. And for Non-performance, you shall pay me three hundred Pounds, I'll forfeit as much if I tell--

Sir _Cau_. Tell?--why, make your three hundred pounds six hundred, and let it be put into the _Gazet_, if you will, Man.--But it's a Bargain?

_Gay_. Done--Sir Feeble shall be witness--and there stands my Hat.

[_Puts down his Hat of Money, and each of em take a Box and Dice, and kneel on the Stage, the rest come about 'em_.

Sir _Cau_. He that comes first to One and thirty wins--

[_They throw and count_.

L. _Ful_. What are you playing for?

Sir _Feeb_. Nothing, nothing--but a Trial of Skill between an old Man and a Young--and your Ladys.h.i.+p is to be Judge.

L. _Ful_. I shall be partial, Sir.

Sir _Cau_. Six and five's Eleven-- [_Throws, and pulls the Hat towards him_.

_Gay_. Cater Tray--Pox of the Dice--

Sir _Cau_. Two fives--one and twenty-- [_Sets up, pulls the Hat nearer_.

_Gay_. Now, Luck--Doublets of sixes--nineteen.

Sir _Cau_. Five and four--thirty-- [_Draws the Hat to him_.

Sir _Feeb_. Now if he wins it, I'll swear he has a Fly indeed--'tis impossible without Doublets of sixes--

_Gay_, Now Fortune smile--and for the future frown. [_Throws_.

Sir _Cau_.--Hum--two sixes-- [_Rises and looks dolefully round_.

L. _Ful_. How now? what's the matter you look so like an a.s.s, what have you lost?

Sir _Cau_. A Bauble--a Bauble--'tis not for what I've lost--but because I have not won--

Sir _Feeb_. You look very simple, Sir--what think you of _Cato_ now?

Sir _Cau_. A wise Man may have his failings--

L. _Ful_. What has my Husband lost?--

Sir _Cau_. Only a small parcel of Ware that lay dead upon my hands, Sweet-heart.

_Gay_. But I shall improve 'em, Madam, I'll warrant you.

L. _Ful_. Well, since 'tis no worse, bring in your fine Dancer, Cousin, you say you brought to entertain your Mistress with.

[Bearjest _goes out_.

_Gay_. Sir, you'll take care to see me paid to Night?

Sir _Cau_. Well, Sir--but my Lady, you must know, Sir, has the common frailties of her s.e.x, and will refuse what she even longs for, if persuaded to't by me.